By the end of the night, when balloons sagged and cake crumbs littered the tables, Daniel realized the celebration had only deepened the silence between them. Everyone else saw joy, but he knew the truth: the damage wasn’t in a secret affair. The damage had come from his own mistrust.
That night, after the last guest left and the boys collapsed upstairs, Daniel lingered in the kitchen. Balloons sagged against the ceiling, confetti clung to his shoes. Claire washed dishes in silence, her back to him. The clatter of plates felt louder than any applause they’d heard hours earlier.